The Maverick

by Jan Hudson

“Au contraire?” She smirked at him.

  “I had two years of French.”

  “So did I, but I rarely say au contraire.”

  “Me either. In fact, I don’t recall ever having the occasion to say it. What shall we do after we jog and buy groceries?”

  “I want to go by and see what progress Greg has made.”

  “Greg?” His left eyebrow went up. “Who’s Greg?”

  “The contractor who’s renovating my houses.”

  “Oh, okay. I’d like to go with you.” Griff scraped the last bite of yogurt from his carton. “And sometime today I need to find a place to live. Any chance I can move in with you?”

  Stunned, she stared at him as if he’d lost his cotton-pickin’ mind.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” Cass said. “You are not moving in with me. As a matter of fact, I need to get you out of here before my mom and aunt show up and start asking questions.”

  “They’re coming here?” Griff said.

  “Not to my apartment, but they’ll be in to help with the rush hour at Chili Witches. It makes them feel useful.”

  Griff looked as if he wanted to say more, but, bless him, he didn’t argue. He merely shrugged. “It was worth a shot. You going to eat the rest of your toast?”

  “Help yourself. Aren’t you going back to the hotel?”

  “No. Since I’m going to be here so much, I want to look at some longer term options.”

  She hesitated. “Longer term as in how long?”

  “That depends on you.”

  “No, don’t base your decisions on me. Do what you want to do.”

  “Okay. I need someplace in Austin to live for a while. Any ideas?”

  “I know a couple of real estate agents who may handle some rentals. Anita is on the board at POAC, and Diane is Hank Wisda’s sister.”

  “Hank? The cop next door with the gun?”

  “Yes, she’s less threatening than Hank.”

  “Let’s call both and see what furnished places they might have available.”

  Cass made the calls. Anita didn’t have anything suitable, but Diane had two or three condos she thought might do, and she could show them right away. “Want to skip the jog?”

  “Yes. If I can’t stay here, I’d like to have a closet to hang my clothes.”

  “Don’t pull Mr. Pitiful on me, buster,” she said, laughing. “Your car or mine?”

  “Let’s take mine. I’m parked at a meter outside, and I don’t want to get a ticket.”

  “Let’s boogie.” Cass grabbed her purse and they went downstairs. When they reached Griff’s rental car, she laughed and pointed to the windshield. “Too late.”

  Looking disgusted, Griff pulled the ticket from his car. “And here I thought I was getting into the Austin spirit by renting a hybrid. Think Hank can get it fixed for me?”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. Pay the fine. It’s probably only fifteen bucks, and you can pay online or by phone. What’s all that?” she asked, peering into the backseat at two large boxes.

  “Some things that wouldn’t fit in the trunk.”

  “Where’s your luggage?”

  “In the trunk.”

  Puzzled, she shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.” Those suckers must have cost a fortune to bring on the plane. She gave him directions to Diane’s office.

  Diane, a little red-haired dynamo with a big smile, arranged for them to see three places, starting with the most distant. The first, a two-bedroom condo on the west side, with a lake view and nice furnishings, Griff said was too far out of town.

  The next was in the Hyde Park area, and the furniture was Victorian with crocheted antimacassars. Cass bit back a laugh when Griff looked horrified and said, “Not exactly my style.”

  The last one was a two-bedroom corner unit in a downtown high-rise, with a spectacular view of both the capitol and the lake. Its contemporary furnishings were something out of Architectural Digest.

  “The owners of this unit,” Diane said, sweeping her hand toward the open living area, “spend several months a year in Canada to be near their grandchildren. They left just three days ago, so the place is available for up to four months. It’s actually a three-bedroom unit, but the smallest bedroom is used to store their personal items. Covered parking downstairs and valet service is included, as is weekly maid service.”

  “I’ll take it,” Griff said.

  “Don’t you want to see the rest of the condo?”

  “Sure, but I’ll take it. When can I move in?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know the price?” Diane asked.

  She named a price and Cass flinched. Griff said, “I’ll take it.”

  “Fantastic,” Diane said. “Let’s go back to my office and do the paperwork, and I’ll give you the key.”

  As they were walking out, Griff put his arm around Cass’s waist. “Don’t you like this place?”

  “It’s beautiful. But there used to be a stable and a blacksmith shop on this site. A shame.”

  “Cass,” he said gently, “nowadays I don’t think there’s much call for a stable or a blacksmith in downtown Austin.”

  She smiled. “You’re right, of course. So I’ll excuse you for living here.”

  “Good. I don’t think I could take all those little lace doilies.”

  AFTER THE PAPERS WERE signed and the money was paid, they stopped for lunch, then headed to Griff’s new home to drop off his belongings.

  “We’ll need the trunk space for groceries later. Not only yours, but mine. I’ll need everything. Did you notice if there was a coffeemaker there?”

  “I think so, but we can check when we go by. Griff, you haven’t stopped smiling. What’s up?”

  “I’m happy.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Happy to be here, happy to be with you. Happy.”

  She smiled. His words were like a soft, cuddly hug, and she reveled in the feeling. She was happy, too.

  “Have you heard any more about your inheritance?”

  “Nothing yet. Carrie said it might be a while yet.” She’d discussed the entire situation with Griff on the phone, so he was aware of Iris’s letter and her will. “Carrie called Sunny yesterday, and told her she’d spoken to Wes and Nonie about the murder. Frank knows as well, but they all decided to wait and let us tell the others in our own time.”

  “Good idea. How did Wes take it?”

  “In stride, the way he takes everything. Said after all the years he spent as sheriff, nothing much surprises him. He was pleased about Sunny and me getting Iris’s estate. I believe his exact words were ‘Fair enough.’”

  They pulled into the underground parking garage, and Griff spoke to someone at the valet stand for a few minutes. A man soon came out with a dolly and loaded on boxes and some of the luggage. Griff took two large rolling bags and Cass took a smaller one and his laptop case.

  “Did you bring everything you own?” she asked.

  “Yep, almost. A few things are being shipped later. Most I sold.”

  Though blown out of the water by what Griff said, she held her questions until they were upstairs and the helper had been tipped and left.

  “I don’t understand,” Cass said. “What did you sell?”

  “Just stuff I don’t need anymore. Things which were more trouble and expense to move than they’re worth. My apartment. The furniture. My car.”

  “But why?”

  His dimples flashed as he put both arms around her waist. “I told you I was considering a move to Austin. Well, now I’ve moved. Want to go check out the king-size bed in the master?”

  “No, I have questions. First I want to know—”

  He kissed her, and the questions burning inside her went down in flames. All she could say was, “Mmm.”

  LATER, MUCH LATER, THEY showered and dressed, having left the bed thoroughly initiated. Griff wore shorts, a T-shirt and flip-flops.

  Cass looked him up and down as they waited f
or the elevator. “Way to go.”

  “I feel a little underdressed.”

  “Naw. You’ll get used to it.”

  “Will my toes get used to these thongs?”

  “Sure, they’ll toughen up. What’s in the bag?” She pointed to the small duffel he carried.

  “Running shorts and shoes.”

  “For running or to wear if your toes give you grief?”

  He grinned. “Got me.”

  They drove to her houses to check out the renovations. Cass noticed Greg’s truck there, and Griff pulled in and parked behind it.

  When they got out, she shaded her eyes and looked up. “Wow, the new roof is almost finished.”

  Greg came down the steps. “The roofers will finish it up tomorrow and may get the one next door done as well.” He held out his hand to Griff. “Greg Gonzales.”

  “Griff Mitchell.”

  “We’re hoping to get a new roof on mine before we have rain.”

  “Yours?” Griff asked. “You buy one of these houses?”

  “Buying. Good investment I lucked into. Mine is that one down on the corner. I’ll either rent it out or resell it.” To Cass he said, “There’s not much to see inside. We’re demolishing the kitchen and baths. Did you get the tile picked out?”

  “I did. I left all the information with Reuben at the tile store. And on Friday I’ll make my final decision about cabinets and fixtures, and let you know.”

  “Good.”

  Two men came out of the house carrying an old sink and countertop, and tossed them into a big Dumpster between the two houses.

  “We’re about to knock off,” Greg told them. “If you go inside, be careful where you step. Things are a mess.”

  “We’ll wait for another time,” she said. “I just love to watch the progress.”

  Greg gave a two-finger salute and walked back in the house.

  “Seems like a nice guy,” Griff said.

  “He is. We went to school together. He played football at UCLA for a while. I hadn’t seen him for years until people recommended him for his job, and I contacted him. He’s even joined POAC.”

  “You don’t say. Guess I’ll have to sign up, too.”

  “Only if you want to. Ready to go grocery shopping? You need to stock up.”

  “I don’t need much,” he said.

  Famous last words.

  They laughed their way through the produce section as Griff piled some of every fruit in the store his cart, along with salads and potatoes. He was in heaven when the found they gourmet soup section. At the meat counter, he selected four giant rib eye steaks.

  “Four?” Cass asked.

  “I like steak. You think I can’t cook? I’ll cook you a steak tonight.”

  “Deal.”

  He went up and down the aisles, tossing stuff in his basket like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep. By the time he was finished, his cart was piled high, while Cass had only eggs, bread, peanut butter, coffee and milk in hers. And two oranges.

  “We’d better go by your place and stow your things first,” Cass said when they were loading his car. “All that ice cream is going to melt. I don’t understand why you got so much.”

  “I like ice cream.”

  “But four gallons?”

  “Ah, sweetie, don’t sweat it.” He gave her a peck as he heaved another sack into the trunk.

  Back at his condo, the valet helped tote the groceries upstairs, and soon everything was put away. Cass reminded Griff that her eggs and milk were still in the car and needed to get into her fridge right away.

  “You can bring your things up here,” he said. “Remember, I’m going to cook steaks for you.”

  “How about we do the steaks another night? Let’s drop my stuff off, and I’ll buy you a bowl of chili. I need to make an early night of it. I have paperwork to do. We’ve decided to move forward with the frozen chili deal.”

  “Great. Does this mean you can retire from the café?”

  “Why would I want to retire?” She drilled his belly with her finger. “Come on, cowboy, move it. My eggs are going to hatch.”

  “Let me change my shoes first. These flip-flops are a bitch.”

  WHEN THEY WALKED INTO Chili Witches, the first person Cass saw was her mother. Oh, crap. Seemed that Gloria and Min had insisted Sunny take the night off to go to Jay’s school pageant.

  Gloria turned to Griff and gave him an anemic smile. “How are you this evening, Mr. Griffith?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “His last name is Mitchell, Mom. Griffin is his first name.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Mitchell. How very silly of me. I don’t know where my mind is sometimes.”

  Cass rolled her eyes. Her mother was acting like that crazy Blanche in A Streetcar Named Desire. Which was not her style. At all. She was playing the passive-aggressive card, and Cass wanted to strangle her big time.

  “I understand,” he said. “Just call me Griff.”

  “We dropped off my groceries and decided to stop by and eat,” Cass said.

  “How wonderful. Would that table do?” Gloria pointed to one in the corner, as if Cass didn’t know the layout of the place down to the last saltshaker.

  “That table is perfect,” Griff said to Gloria. “Could you join us?”

  Cass kicked him in the ankle.

  “Oh, how very sweet of you to ask, Mr. Griffith, but I’m much too busy working. And I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  Griff opened his mouth, and Cass kicked him again. Harder. “Another time, Mom. Would you send someone over with a couple of beers?”

  When they were seated, Griff leaned over and asked quietly, “Does your mother have memory problems?”

  “Nope. She’s sharp as a tack. Sharper.”

  “I was afraid of that. I don’t think she likes me.”

  Cass was trying to think of an appropriate response without flat out lying when Gloria came sashaying over with two draft beers on a tray. She tripped—quite theatrically, Cass thought—and dumped both foaming mugs smack in Griff’s lap.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Horrified, Cass watched Griff’s eyes widen, but he didn’t say a word.

  “Mother!” Cass grabbed a handful of napkins.

  “Oh, dear merciful heavens, Mr. Griffith, I’m so sorry. Don’t move. I’ll get some towels. Jeff! Bring towels!” she shouted over her shoulder.

  With the yelling, customers who’d missed the original catastrophe added their stares to the others who were gawking at the beer dripping from Griff’s lap onto the floor.

  “Oh, Mr. Griffith, can you ever forgive me? Sometimes my arthritis acts up, and I get so clumsy.”

  “What arthritis?” Cass said. “You don’t have arthritis.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Ms. O’Connor,” Griff said. “Accidents happen. My mom has arthritis, and sometimes her hands bother her, as well.”

  “Well, bless your heart, Mr. Griffith. Aren’t you the sweetest thing. Here, Jeff’s brought some towels. Let me help you clean up.” She began dabbing at his lap.

  “I think I can handle it,” he said, looking pained as he grabbed the towels from Gloria.

  If Cass hadn’t been so ticked off at her mother, she would have laughed. “Let’s go upstairs to my apartment, Griff, and you can shower. I’ll wash your clothes and put them in the drier.”

  It was her mother’s turn to look horrified. Good enough for her.

  Griff nodded and tried to dry off as best he could. When he rose, he laughed and said loudly enough for all the gawkers to hear, “Sorry about the interruption, everybody. Dessert is on me.” He glanced down at his lap. “As is my beer.”

  Everybody laughed along with him.

  “Mother,” Cass muttered between clenched teeth. “We’ll talk later.”

  She and Griff hurried out the back way and up to her apartment.

  “Griff, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into my mom. This isn’t like her.”

  “Don’
t worry, honey. Accidents happen.” He stripped off his clothes and handed them to her.

  “You know and I know that what happened was no accident. Why would Mom do such a thing? I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be. For some reason she doesn’t like me, and she’s a lioness protecting her cub. Give me some time. I’ll bring her around.” He gave Cass a peck on the nose. “Would you get my gym bag from the car?”

  “Sure. And I’ll call downstairs and have our food delivered up here.”

  “Mind if we skip the chili tonight? I’ve lost my taste for chili and beer.”

  GRIFF DECIDED TO GO back to his condo and leave Cass to her work. She wondered if it wasn’t merely a polite kiss-off. No, he was sincere, she told herself, when he’d said it would take more than a little beer to get rid of him for good.

  He might be polite and forgiving, but Cass was royally pissed at her mother, and she stomped downstairs to confront her. Aunt Min saw her come in, and hurried to meet her.

  “Oh, Cass, I’m so sorry about what happened. Did Griff leave?”

  “Naturally. Were you a part of the floor show?”

  “Absolutely not! I was in the kitchen.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “Hiding in the office. Are you angry?”

  “Of course I’m angry.” Cass wheeled and strode to the office.

  Her mother was sitting behind the desk, her head in her hands. She didn’t look up when Cass slammed the door. “Why, Mom? Why? And don’t feed me any bull about accidents or arthritis or poor memory.”

  When Gloria looked up, her eyes were red-rimmed and teary. “I—I don’t want you to get hurt, Cass. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening. I don’t trust him. I never have. From the first moment I met him, I knew he was up to something. Something deceptive. He’s using you for his own purposes. Mark my words, the man’s a charlatan.”

  Cass rolled her eyes. “And what are you? Psychic?”

  Her mother took a deep breath and stared directly into Cass’s eyes.

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, yes, I am.”

  Cass knees gave way and she plopped down in a chair. “Since when?”

  “Since as long as I can remember. I screamed and fainted the moment your father was shot. Ask Min. I’d been uneasy for several days before it happened. I get feelings.”